Your War
by Foul Ole Ron
Summary: In the war against Voldemort, Harry is a squad leader. His people are disappearing and even Dumbledore is losing hope...RR it's all disclaimed


**Your**** War**

"Dumbledore. Is Dumbledore there please?" Harry knelt down on his hands and knees and spoke into the fire in front of him, trying to keep his voice even. While he could feel his feet going to sleep on the cold ground, Harry's head was miles away in a fireplace of Grimmauld Place. Frantically he repeated his question to the fire-sentry on duty,

"Can I please speak to Dumbledore? This is Potter here-"

"Yes, yes, I know who you are," replied the woman in a strained voice, "Wait a second," There was a pause, and Harry could feel someone tapping his shoulder back at the base, 

"Hurry, Gabrielle!" he snapped, "It's important!" The sentry shot him a dirty look,

"Sorry, Potter, Dumbledore is not currently available. Deliver your report anyway, then," she asked coldly.

"Damn it! God, you better listen carefully. Ok, Squad Twenty Four, Unicorn, is missing in action, Squad Sixteen, Grass Snake, all dead, and Squad Thirty-one, _my _squad" - Harry could feel his voice cracking, but he ploughed on – "needs to regroup, we have two dead, five injured and one missing." The sentry's haughty glare had completely disappeared, and she stared at him in horror,

"Since last night?"

"Since last night. And listen, that's not the worst of it, Voldemort is going to-"

But he was cut of as someone pulled him out of the flames,

"Potter! There's someone coming, what do you want?" Harry pushed the need to warn headquarters from his mind, and looked at the boy in front of him. This was madness, this war. The kid in before him looked about fifteen, far too young to be a soldier. Not that he was much better! Only seventeen and just out of school, for God's sake! But the ministry had been scraping for volunteers and who better than Harry Potter, the boy who would one day kill Voldemort, or die at his hand? Glancing at the entrance of the cave that served his squad as a base, Harry looked at the soldier questioningly,

"Do you have any idea – ?"

"According to the scanning spell, it's a deatheater-"

"What, alone?"

"As far as we can tell. He's about a hundred metres to the left of the cave, and getting closer. We think he's on foot so we won't detect magic, the bastard seems to have forgotten we can get him with scanners-"

"Ok," said Harry, "We need to get him in for questioning, so get into position." He looked around at the rest of his team, "Sal, Richard, you're to stay with the injured, Sherry, Michael, Chris, invisibility cloaks and sneak around behind him for the pincer movement, if the worst comes to the worst. Um…" those he named went silently to do his bidding, and he stared at the remaining faces. Most were strained and drawn, and Harry knew he could not rely on all of them. He looked at the eldest in the squad, Cy Davidson, who was twenty-eight. He was the strongest looking person in the camp, and the most cheerful. Most people had thought that he should be the squad captain, being the most experienced auror there, but he himself had disagreed, saying he was a follower, not a leader. Now, he grinned at Harry reassuringly.  Coming to a decision, Harry spoke,

"Cy, you take Kelly, and – er – Luciel, and go first. He'll probably attack when he realises where're on to him, so take care. I'll take Kimberley and come up behind you, and we'll try to stun him together, or try a restraining curse….um, yeah, and the rest of you, stay here and try to contact Base again. Ok, so let's do it!" Harry tried to give of an air of bravado that he did not feel. Ever since Tako Selis,  a messenger from Neville Longbottom's squad had arrived that morning half-dead, the hopeless feeling inside Harry had been swelling until it was all he could do to keep calm. The more he thought about it the worse it became. Voldemort was simply too powerful to combat. He had too much power and too many followers. The alliance, known as the 'World Army', or 'Dumbledore's Army' to some, simply did not have enough power to stop him. Harry knew, with morbid certainty, that sooner or later, wether it was tomorrow or in ten years time, that Voldemort was going to win the war, and then he was going to rule the world. He remembered his school days at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and how he had defied Voldemort all those times, but he had still managed to let Sirius die, and Cedric Diggory… Harry shook himself out of his reverie, scolding himself. It did not do for a soldier to be lost in the land of fairies while on the job. Smiling grimly he waited for a few moments while Cy, Kelly Starger and Luciel Leein crept stealthily out of the cave, wands drawn. Harry then carefully disillusioned himself and Kimberley Serrington, a thin, peaky looking blond girl who happened to be an incredibly accurate stunner. She, like Harry, was wearing a regulation jacket and trousers in a camouflaging greyish green-brown colour that hardly needed the disillusionment. The wizarding world had discovered by experience that traditional robes were not the most practical things to be going around in during wartime, and had decided to outfit their army in more muggle-like clothing. 

Harry crept after Kimberley as she lead the way to the mouth of the cave and peered out. Harry found himself looking at a different world from the day before. The barren moor that had been bright and sunny mere hours ago, was now seething in mist so that Harry could barely see two steps in front of him, let alone a enemy creeping up on them in the dark. Harry had not realized that it had become evening so quickly.

"And _why_ didn't someone mention the mists?" he hissed at Kimberley, but she only shrugged, 

"The fog wasn't there a few minutes ago, it must have come up suddenly," she whispered back. Harry seriously doubted this, and was about to point out that it was probably a magically created mist when a figure came bounding out of the gloom. It was Luciel, one of the men he had sent out of the cave moments before. Harry gaped at him as he lurched into view. His blue eyes were wide and staring, and his usually pale face was white even for him. What had happened? Harry took a step towards him, there was clearly something not right…

"Luciel, what're you doing? Where are the others?" Suddenly Luciel's too-red lips contorted into a grin and his eyes rolled back in his head. He began to giggle.  He grabbed Harry's arm,

"Harry!" he gave a hysterical laugh, "You won't believe this, Harry – oh, you just _have _to get back to the cave!," he gasped, pushing Harry back into the entrance of the cave. Luciel staggered in after him and began to rub his hands together. "It _is_ cold in here, isn't it?" Harry stared at him. The boy was clearly under some kind of spell, or in some kind of concussion. He stood, muttering to himself and shivering, his eyes darting here and there, taking in the cold stone walls of the cave.

"Harry, it's cold! Why is it cold, Harry?"

"Luciel, it is cold, but it's not _that cold! What's happened to you? Where are all the others?" Harry heard a note of panic in his voice. He could not understand what had happened. Luciel had been fine moments before…Harry had seen him leave the cave,_

"The others?" said Luciel, giving a twisted grin and rubbing the back of his neck, "I know where _they _are!" He laughed wildly and accepted the blanket Kimberley had retrieved from the cave for him.

"Thanks, Kimmie, Kimbo, Kimble! But that's not warm enough!" suddenly his grin disappeared and a look of hopeless fear drifted across his face,

"No, of course not. Not warm enough at all….its so cold, so cold. It will never be warm again…" Harry, impatient to know what had happened, shook his arm,

"Leein, you'll be warm soon! Just tell us: what happened to the others?!" Luciel paused, and looked straight at him, and for a moment Harry thought he was back to normal. But the shrewd, slightly sane look was soon replaced with a crazed smirk,

"All _dead_. Dead as door nails, you know, dead. Deadity dead, deader than dead, poof! Just like that! Dead dead deadity dead…"

"_What?"_ cried Harry, "What are you talking about? Luciel, _where_ are the others?" A wave of nausea seemed to hit Luciel suddenly, and his face became bleak and drawn,

"I already told you, Harry, there're dead. There're all gone Harry, to a dark place, a cold place…so cold, Harry, it's so cold…" Harry stared at him in horror. Was he delirious or telling the truth? Harry grabbed his shoulders and shook him, and without realising it, began to yell at him. He couldn't believe what the man was saying so he tried to see a way out…. Kimberley grabbed Harry's arms, pulling him back,

"Harry! Get off him! He's sick. We have to get him back to the cave-"

"Kimberley, he's saying there all dead!"

"And what if they are?"

"What do you mean-"

"What are you going to do if they are? Go out and look for them? Come on Potter, we have to get Luciel warm – he's shivering!" And with that the blond, bossy voiced girl put one of Luciel's shivering arms over her shoulders and started to lead him back into the heart of the cave. Their temporary fireplace was still burning, and, he hoped, connected to the floo-system. Standing in the middle of the fire-lit cavern, Harry got himself together and began to give orders,

"Sally, get a blanket around Luciel, he seems to have some kind of fever. What potions have you got? Richard, Kim, go out and look – oh, on seconds thoughts, don't, just stay here. Did you get through to Base? No? Ok, Janet, where's the floo powder?"  Harry fought to keep a clear head as he tried to work out what to do. Running a hand through his hair, Harry grabbed a handful of floo power and crossed his fingers that the flimsy connection between their isolated camp and Grimmauld Place would hold. He sighed with relief as the fire glowed green. Sticking his head into the fire, he came face to face with a wild-eyed Gabrielle. 

"Potter! We couldn't get through to you! What's happened-?"

"There's something seriously wrong here, there's a lone deatheater out on the moor, but there're not using magic so we can't pin-point them-"

"The scanners can't-"

"No, Gabrielle, they can't," said Harry tersely, "We only know it's a deatheater because the scanners are picking up a darkmark – anyway, I sent six out to investigate, and I followed them soon after with one other. The weather's really unusual. One man came running back in a state claiming the other five were all dead. That's Leein, and he's got some kind of fever-"

"Are you saying that five soldiers disappeared because of _one deatheater?" Gabrielle stared at him in disbelief,_

"In the space of five minutes," said Harry tiredly, "I don't know what the hell's going on, nor do I know if Luciel's sane enough to be telling the truth. What I do know, is that something's happened to them, and whatever it is, its not registering on our scanning spells," The sentry, turned around,

"I'll see if I can get Dumbledore, he should be back by now," she turned to leave the room, and Harry sighted with relief. Dumbledore would know what to do…

"Harry?" he looked up and saw a very tired looking Dumbledore. Harry did a double take as he realised that Dumbledore was not at all his energetic, _twinkling_ self. His face seemed aged years in the space of a month, and his usually sparkling blue eyes seemed to have been dulled with despair. It was like a dagger in Harry's heart. What hope had they if Dumbledore had lost all his? 

"I need advice," began Harry,

"I know. Gabrielle explained. I think we've found Voldemort's elusive base. It must be out on the moor; otherwise you would have picked up the magic use. Only a powerful enemy base would be able to cover its traces like that-"

"So you think they've been taken? They let Luciel escape-"

"That I do not understand," said Dumbledore, sighing heavily, "I fear they may be setting us a trap. You say there was a lone deatheater out there?" Harry nodded,

"I wonder…I wonder if - " Dumbledore seemed to be lost in thought. Harry cleared his throat, and the old man gave a start,

"Sorry, sorry. Now, I want all of you to get out of there. Obviously you need to regroup and set up a proper camp there. You'll need more people, too. I'll send over some medics to take Leein and the others in to St Mungo's and then I'll question him later. Don't stay in the cave any longer than you have to. Once your wounded are away, fly out. Don't apparate, they might be able to trace you. They still might not know where you were camping, but that all depends on what happened to your missing people…"

"You think we'd be better off if they were dead?" asked Harry flatly, and Dumbledore gave him a sad look,

"I think I'll order all the squadrons in, we've lost too many. We need a better strategy. I'll call a meeting of the order once they're all in."

"Those that are left," said Harry darkly, "We still don't know what's happened to Neville's people yet. Selis hasn't woken,"

"Yes. Severus told me it was madness to set up so many separate forces in an unknown region, God knows I should have listened-"

"Don't beat yourself up about it, sir, you've kept our spirits up for so long, its nothing short of incredible," said Harry with feeling. He suddenly felt a lump welling in is throat for all the people who worked so hard even when everything was so hopeless. Dumbledore smiled slightly, and nodded to him. Giving a half-hearted salute, Harry withdrew is head from the fire and look around at the small force assembled around him.

"Right," he said.


End file.
